


Feather-like Touches

by Kaddi



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, feather may be less dumb than he is in canon here, how do you like the joke in the title, i didnt get halloween feather so I must scream, includes three(3) separate instances of comparing people to dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaddi/pseuds/Kaddi
Summary: Over the course of their travels, Gran has tried to confess to Feather. It never worked before, but this time it has to! Probably?"Feather stops in his tracks. Suddenly it is silent, a terrible moment in which Gran considers that maybe Feather doesn'tknowwhat a date is."





	Feather-like Touches

When Gran first realised he was crushing on Feather, he had brushed it off. Feather meets all his standards. Strong, smiley, cute. Deeply devoted to something and a little dumb. Of course he would be smitten. The same happened when they met Vane. Yet as they traveled, his feelings mellowed into a simple craving for friendship. Something Vane was all too happy to give.

Gran figured he was just easily overcome with emotions that needed time to sort themselves out.

Feather has been traveling with them for about a year now, though, and his traitorous heart still beats faster at the mere thought of him. His feelings didn't calm at all!

Even worse, others started to notice it too. _Everyone_ noticed except for the target of his affections. Feather is oblivious like always, solely focussed on getting Gran to battle him. On some days he almost gives in, the urge to smack Feather in the face threatening to overpower him. Like when Gran decided to tell Feather, to his face, “I could kiss you”, only to be brushed off immediately and be offered a “kiss with his fist” instead.

And so it came that one day, he had enough. If his romantic advances were unwanted, he expected Feather to tell him.

He was roped into helping with maintenance work today, as they just anchored at a new island. After a day of hard, boring work, he has no energy left to search for Feather. It's not the nicest way to do it, but he takes a deep breath and shouts Feather's name.

A moment later the canteen door bursts open. Gran winces.

“Yeah, captain?” Feather shouts back, already charging at him like an overzealous dog.

“Go on a date with me!”

Feather stops in his tracks. Suddenly it is silent, a terrible moment in which Gran considers that maybe Feather doesn't _know_ what a date is.

But Feather yells back “Sure!” confidently, accompanied with a fist pump, and disappears back into the canteen. Gran is left standing, now himself the dog. A dog that was excited to play fetch but got tricked by its owner just pretending to throw the ball. There's no way Feather could have gotten the wrong idea here, right? He would immediately pounce at the opportunity of a fight no matter the time or place, so as much as he hates to admit it, his calm response can only mean one thing. He succeeded. He actually succeeded in getting Feather to agree to a date.

Rackam passes him, proudly patting his head in that condescending 'I'm an adult, you're a child' way, and for once all Gran does is choke as realisation hits him.

 

 

Didn't Feather answer way too casually? Sure, it's 'just' a date and not the fight he's been begging Gran for for years. But he can't help wondering, did he take his shot and finally hit but somehow still miss? “Date” pretty clearly is romantic.

“You're just overthinking again,” Vyrn says.

He, Vyrn, and Lyria are huddled together in his room for a congratulation-turned-emergency-meeting. News spread fast on the Grandcypher, especially if you yell them at the top of your lungs on deck. Lyria and Vyrn came crashing into his room with such gusto they were just missing the party horns to trump the time they decided to surprise him for his birthday.

Lyria shares a quick look with Vyrn and nods determinedly.

“That's right! Don't underestimate him!”

She places one hand, light as a feather, on his shoulder reassuringly. He looks up at her for the first time since they came bounding into his room. The brilliant smile on her face coaxes a small smile out of him.

“Even if he still doesn't get it, then you simply have to show him!” She says.

“We believe in you!”

 

 

Gran sleeps surprisingly well that night. With Vyrn curled around his head and Lyria next to him it is comfortable, safe, and warm. Every time he tries to worry, Vyrn digs his claws ever so gently into his skull until he banishes the thought. Nothing can go wrong. They picked out the clothes he will wear tomorrow after they forcefully pried his Glorybringer outfit out of his nervous clutches. 'They' being Io and Korwa. It was a real struggle to find something aside from his blue hoodie that didn't obviously scream 'battle' that wasn't torn, too small, or had mysterious stains on it. Or so he had heard. In the end Korwa did some emergency treatment on his Harpist clothes, leaving with the promise to 'get Feather out of those stinking clothes even if it's the last thing she does'. But maybe he should go with Glorybringer aft -

Another dragon claw scratches his head.

 

 

There is a new problem. They didn't agree on when to have their date yesterday! Feather was gone so fast it completely slipped his mind. No one stopped him! Rackam pat his head! Curse you, Rackam, for making him think he did perfectly.

Unwilling to worry about that now, right after waking up, he begrudgingly rolls out of bed, careful to not disturb his friends. Food comes before anything else if he hopes to accomplish anything.

He trudges through the halls, eyes still bleary with sleep. The floor is cold, an unwelcome reminder that he didn't change into new clothes. That's another thing he can worry about later. This is his home. Everyone has seen his pyjamas enough times that he no longer cares.

He rounds another corner, lured by the delicious smell of breakfast hanging in the air, when he bumps into someone.

“Careful there, Captain,” that someone – Lancelot, it's Lancelot – says.

Both his hands steady Gran as if he was about to fall over. If anything he wants to fall right into Lancelot's chest and sleep some more. Eternally if possible.

Lancelot musters him for a moment before he smiles softly.

“I'm glad I bumped into you, Gran, saves me from coming to get you.”

Now he puts a hand on his back to gently push him to walk.

“Vane made breakfast.”

A chorus of angels may as well have started singing.

“Sounds great,” he mumbles with as much excitement as his tired state allows. His stomach rumbles in support.

Lancelot laughs.

 

 

The canteen is almost empty when they arrive. The diligent members of the crew must have already eaten, while most of the night owls are still catching up on sleep. Usually he is among the first in here.

It makes him wonder how long it took Vane to prepare breakfast if Lancelot only went to get him now. Or perhaps he got sick of waiting for Gran? He imagines Vane sitting at the set table all alone, sighing like a lone housewife whose husband once again neglects her in favour of his work. Then he imagines Vane waking up in the early hours of the morning, spending hours in the kitchen to make a special meal, just for him (and Lancelot). Both scenarios don't sit well with him. Is there a charity he can donate his worries to, he clearly has too many.

Yet when Vane spots them heading his way, his smile is as bright as always. Gran lets go of the breath he was holding and waves at him, letting Lancelot take the lead to greet Vane properly.

The table dons a fresh tablecloth, littered with plates of pancakes and bowls of cut fruit. Two plates on one side, and a lone one on the other. Guess that's where he is sitting. They're eating together, then?

“Food always tastes better when eaten together!” Vane exclaims, answering his unvoiced question. “It's nothing fancy but I hope you like it!”

Would it be okay to start crying now?

“Did you wait long?” he asks instead.

Vane shakes his head and sits down, motioning for him and Lancelot to do the same.

“Not at all! We had a long day yesterday, so we also slept in a little,” he explains.

Gran nods.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

Vane waves him off.

“Think nothing of it. You got a big day ahead of you after all.”

“'Big day'?” Gran echoes.

Vane gives a hearty laugh. “Don't be silly! I'm talking about your date of course. Is about time, really. Watching you got pretty sad.”

“Oh.”

Lancelot grins. “Did you think we wouldn't know? Percival has been fussing all yesterday, you know. Report to him later, okay?”

Gran blushes and nods. He did shout it right across the deck, didn't he? Still, that the word spread so fast, he really raised a little gossip crew. Then again, Feather does like bragging about everything to everyone – wait, that'd mean Feather saw a date with him as something to brag about. The blush he fought down crawls on his face again. No, it must be all Rackam's fault. He'd get a stern lecture later.

For now, he has food to eat.

And a need to confess to Vane and Lancelot that he is not sure if he actually has a date today.

Oh man.

 

 

After he clears his plate he gently nudges Vane and Lancelot. Once he has their attention he waves them closer as if to shield their conversation from the empty canteen.

“What did you want to tell us?” Vane asks.

“I... I don't actually have a date today,” Gran admits, voice lowered to a whisper.

“Pardon?” Lancelot says, almost reflexively.

Gran averts his eyes. Saying it out loud is even worse than admitting it to himself.

“I asked him out but asking for a time completely slipped my mind...”

Lancelot starts.“You forgot...”

“To ask for a time...” Vane finishes.

They each put a hand on Gran's shoulders.

“We'll help you,” they say in unison.

 

 

They stuff their faces with the remaining breakfast and split up to search for Feather. Or in Gran's case, Randall. It's less embarrassing to ask around if anyone has seen Randall than if they have seen Feather, his date. Plus Randall will know where Feather is, if he's not with him anyway.

 

 

He doesn't need their help in the end. After checking around the deck he decides to return to his room for a change of clothes, when he comes across Feather and Randall. They are arguing about something, as usual. He doesn't know about what, it sounds more like they're in an monster sound imitation contest, but Randall looks angry enough. Feather spots him first, waving enthusiastically at him.

“Gran!” he shouts when Gran comes into speaking range.

“Hey, Gran,” Randall says, much calmer, throwing a pointed glare at Feather. Compared to Feather's overzealousness, Randall tries to please by appearing cool. Especially cool compared to his rival. His third eye opens as he realises they're both just like dogs trying to get his attention.  
“Hello, you two. I just wanted to borrow Feather for a moment,” he says.

A figurative lightbulb appears over Feather's head.

“Oh, right! We don't have a time for our date yet!”

“'Date'?” Randall echoes.

He straightens, his glare now on Gran.

“You agreed?” he asks accusingly, jabbing a finger at him.

Wait, what. Agreed?

“I was the one who asked, actually,” he clarifies.

“ _You_ asked? Someone punch me.”

As requested, Feather raises his hand and lunges, sending Randall, who didn't actually expect to be punched but should have known better, flying.

“H-how about lunch today?” Gran blurts.

“Sure!”

Feather beams. Gran nods and ducks away just as Randall kicks Feather in the guts.

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S DONE! I worked on this for about 2 months orz I changed a lot over the course of writing it, and even today I cut out a scene entirely. But now it's out, and I'm happy!
> 
> If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment. Or come talk to me on twitter [@Lanzelilot!](https://twitter.com/Lanzelilot)


End file.
